


A Cocktail of Love (And High Acceleration)

by Princess_Claire_Fey



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, The Expanse (TV)
Genre: At least they can relate to eachother, Azula is a Martian, Daddy Issues, Don't ask me what I was thinking when I came up with this, Drinking, F/F, Femslash February, Femslash February 2020, Hookups, Idk that just seems to fit, Morning After, Or more like phone messages, Racing, angry phone calls, cause of light delay, lots of daddy issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:21:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22869271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princess_Claire_Fey/pseuds/Princess_Claire_Fey
Summary: Azula Ryu and Juliette Andromeda Mao are both daughters of titans, their fathers controlling vast amounts of wealth and placing big expectations on their heirs. However, sometimes a girl's got to have some fun, and at least in this the two of them understand eachother.
Relationships: Azula (Avatar)/Julie Mao
Kudos: 7
Collections: Femslash February





	A Cocktail of Love (And High Acceleration)

Juliette Andromeda Mao felt her cheeks try to fall off her face and her chest try to collapse inwards as the _Razorback_ roared up to a full 6 gees. It was far too early in the race to be juiced up as much as she was, but it's what she needed to do to stay ahead. Her opponent, the _Cerulean Princess_ was right behind her, putting in all the _oomph_ right into the beginning of the race as though it were a one hundred meter sprint rather than the marathon it was. She tried to ponder what the hell was going through the pilots mind but her own wouldn't cooperate. _Too busy trying not to have a brain hemorrhage._  
  
_What the-?_  
  
Even in the brain fog that came with a high-acceleration burn, Julie knew something was off with the _Princess_ 's course. Instead of keeping with the turn, it blew right past the bend as though it were being raced by an amateur who didn't know how to steer without turning the drive off first.  
  
Whatever, it didn't matter what was going through that martian's head. Julie let her cardiovascular system take a break, cutting her burn to a measly two-and-a-half and reorienting to compensate for the lower acceleration. She took in the deep breaths her lungs had been begging for after two full minutes of barely being able to hold up under their own weight.  
  
That was, until the computer chirped out an alert. Her breaths took on a short and shallow character as she watched the _Princess_ turn off its drive, re-orient, and burn. The _Razorback_ 's ranging laser dutifully informed her that it was overtaking her by three-and-a-half.  
  
This was the part Julie hated about racing, when it came to a dick-measuring contest of who could take the most gees. It rarely happened: the digital courses were designed with twists and turns and pilots were limited to all but the most rudimentary computer-assisted pilot system, all to make sure the contestants were awake and at the stick as they carefully and manually made each maneuver. Occasionally, some junkie looking to set some records would juice themselves right past the limit hoping that higher acceleration would compensate for shittier piloting, but they rarely lasted more than a few races without getting a stroke or permanent brain damage.  
  
Even they didn't burn at 6 gees before the halfway mark. Nobody did.  
  
She tapped some numbers into the computer. The distance she'd gained on the turn meant she didn't have to match acceleration completely, but she would have to speed up. Hot metal surged through her veins as the epstein behind her began pulling just under four and a half, the toxic chemicals pouring up through the needles in her back doing their best to keep her both alive and conscious without causing massive cell death.  
  
If the pilot of the _Princess_ was feeling the same strain, he wasn't showing it. For the next hour and a half, it held at 6 gees, only ever stopping to reorient. As her senses began to fail her she began to wonder if this was a practical joke. Her father trying to humble her after her string of straight victories in the Ceres Circuit and the Venutian Grand Prix. No human being could survive such acceleration for so long. And even if they could, there was no need. A good third of their acceleration was being lost by their inefficient maneuvers.  
  
**A.B. COCKTAIL LEVELS NOW TOXIC**  
  
If Julie were capable of sighing under the gees, she would have. A small part of her wanted to tap **OVERRIDE** and give whoever this interloper was a run for their money, but she knew better. Her father had always said pride wasn't worth dying for, and although she loathed agreeing with him, he was right.  
  
She let the throttle fall back and watched the _Princess_ fly past on the display, relegating Julie to second place.  
  


* * *

  
  
It was a good thirty minutes of de-tox and generally getting over the nausea before Julie felt like taking her arm out of the auto-doc and standing on her own two feet. Although it felt good to stand in Ganymede's leisurely 0.15 gee, she knew it was bad for her. Paradoxically, going to such low gravity after spending so much time on the juice was bad for you: going from one extreme to the other confused the brain and the cardiovascular system, making you feel as though you had the flu (and apparently, giving you the slight chance of spontaneous heart failure). Thankfully, Julie could afford to have the best doctors on Ganymede filter all the juice out of her system and replace it with a cocktail meant to ease the process. A bit of a ridiculous luxury, she had to admit. She could have just circled the moon at one half gee for an hour. But it was convenient.  
  
Now that the therapy was over, Julie was free to do what she wanted. Normally, this was the part where she'd break out the champagne and celebrate her victory, sending vids to her friends on the net showing her excitement and highlighting the most tense parts of the race.  
  
But aside from the fact that she _didn't_ win (not unless you count second place), she wanted to meet the pilot of the _Cerulean Princess_ , that is if they even existed.  
  
She'd been to the racing club on Ganymede before, though she didn't go often despite the fact that it was customary, as her father always raised hell when she did. It was nice compared to the places around it, getting some of the trickle-down from all the racing sponsors, but certainly lower class than the places Jules-Pierre approved of. That, and there was a slingshot club in the back if you knew who's name to drop.  
  
This time, though, she wasn't here to engage in a round of piss-daddy-off-by-being-the-naughty-girl, she was looking for somebody. So she sat down at the bar, ordered a gin and tonic, and looked around for a martian in a racing outfit she didn't recognize.  
  
"Juliette Andromeda Mao." said a voice from behind her, causing Julie to jump. She turned around to see a short figure of someone from the inner planets, her head sporting long dark hair and her eyes clearly the product of genetic engineering, bearing a distinctly golden hue. "of the _Razorback._ Mind if I sit down?" asked the woman, setting down her own glass which contained a deep red liquid.  
  
"It's a free solar system." said Julie, suppressing an eyeroll. She'd encountered the type before. Wealthy, well-dressed, probably with an ocular implant, carrying around a non-alcoholic drink in a bar where racers go to get shitfaced either to celebrate or forget the fact they don't have anything to celebrate. All for the sole purpose of speaking with her. Or rather, speak with the daughter of Jules-Pierre Mao, who held a controlling interest in Mao-Kwikowski Mercantile.  
  
Silence as the two of them attended to their drinks, pondering their first words (or lack thereof).  
  
"I spent most of the race staring up your drive plume." said the woman. "I must say, I didn't expect you to stay ahead as long as you did."  
  
Julie put down her drink, this time suppressing a blush. She hadn't even considered the possibility that the woman was a racer, let alone the pilot of the _Princess_. Truthfully, she had been expecting her opponent to be a man - winning a race simply by using up the most reaction mass wasn't exactly a subtle, feminine approach. "The _Cerulean Princess_?" asked Julie finally, making sure she hadn't rushed to any conclusions.  
  
"That's me." the woman confirmed. "Name's Azula. I hope there's no hard feelings?"  
  
A pause. The name seemed familiar, but Julie couldn't quite place it. "Not too many." she said honestly. Aside from the sting of defeat, it hurt to be beat in such an unsportsmanlike way. That said, there was little point in being bitter about it. "I am interested in how you stayed on the juice that long. Genetic mods?" she asked.  
  
"I wish." said Azula. "No, my father owns a research company that works for the Martian Navy. One of the things he's been tasked with developing is a variant of the Anti Burn cocktail that prioritizes survivability over consciousness. For when you really want to get somewhere but you don't really care about being awake for the trip."  
  
_Of course,_ Julie thought to herself. _that's why your turns were so jagged, your ship was on auto-pilot._  
  
Another pause.  
  
"That's cheating." Julie declared.  
  
"Probably." Azula nodded, pulling out her hand-terminal and turning the screen towards Julie, revealing a bunch of talking heads with incendiary headlines about Azula's upset victory. "The media seems to agree, there's already talk about finally putting limits on cocktail usage." she turned the terminal back towards herself, turning it off and placing it on the bar. "But I'm not too concerned, I just saved my father's company years of theoretical safety reviews, peer review, animal testing, and controlled trails. And I had fun doing it." she said with a smile.  
  
Julie couldn't help but chuckle at the woman's outlook. "So this was just him using you as a guinea pig?"  
  
"No, it was my idea. I've always wanted to try racing, but you know how dads like ours are, they want us to continue the _grand legacy_ and further the interests of their empires." she said, speaking as though she hadn't just met Julie five minutes ago. "He has me on the fast-track, he wants me to become an admiral by the time I'm thirty. Not much time for racing on the rim in-between all that." she said matter-of-factly.  
  
She wasn't _wrong_ though. Julie's father was as-described. Always putting her on the fast-track for something or other, grooming her to one day take his place.  
  
It was exhausting. And apparently Azula could relate.  
  
"I get that." she said, as though she were a teenager talking to her friends over a group-chat. It felt juvenile, but to be honest, Julie didn't care. It was nice to finally meet someone in her position that didn't pretend to love every moment of it. "So does that mean I won't be able to get you for a rematch?" she asked, half-playfully.  
  
"Unfortunately not." Azula replied. "Even if I'm not banned for pulling my little stunt, I collected all the data I need and I'm due for Mars in a few days." she said, not even trying to hide her disappointment. "Apparently I have much to catch up on at the academy." A grimace.  
  
"Oh." was all Julie could say, somehow feeling disappointed despite her earlier anger at Azula's cheap victory. She was kind of looking forward to seeing her on the track again, if only for a rendezvous afterwards.  
  
"It wouldn't be a good idea anyway." Azula admitted, her voice turning melancholy. "The only reason I was out in front today was because I had better drugs. Real skill like yours takes time to develop." A short pause. "I wasn't really conscious most of the time, but I had a chance to review the data from my ship. You maneuver quite well, not even the pilots I've trained with at the academy could pull turns like that without computer assistance. My ranging laser marked you as close to thirty meters off the line."  
  
Julie blushed. "You had your ship keep an eye on me?"  
  
"Well..." Azula trailed off, a sly smile developing. "I'm a little bit of a fan. That's why I'm here rather than back at mars accelerating in a straight line."  
  
"I wouldn't have guessed that." Julie said with a small laugh, immediately making Azula's face betray her with a blush of her own. "You watch my races?"  
  
"It's what got me into racing in the first place. I saw you on a newsfeed, and I wondered how you were faster than the other racers. I didn't know about the rules regarding advanced autopiloting systems at the time, so I couldn't figure out why it was you in the news not your ship. I ended up doing some research about it, and I watched more of your races. I found it exciting." she explained. "In the navy, all the details are handled for you by the computer. They calculate the most efficient maneuvers down to the meter - your job as a human is just to decide which ones to make and when to fire the guns. It's all very cut-and-dry. But what you do..."  
  
"It's an art form." Julie interrupted.  
  
"Exactly. The outcomes of races can't be predicted by computers, because of that human element. It's a true test of individual skill and valor." she declared. "Of course, my father didn't think so. When I told him I wanted to try and race, he told me that it was a useless skill and therefore a wasteful indulgence"  
  
Julie laughed, causing Azula to go quiet, an embarrassed look on her face as though she thought she had shared too much.  
  
"Archery." Julie said.  
  
"What?"  
  
"When I was a little girl, I had an obsession with archery. I had read this book where the hero was this girl who defeated the bad guys with a bow and arrow, and I wanted to try it out myself." Julie explained, thinking back and trying not to get caught up in the memory. "My dad said the same thing, that it was an old and deprecated skill that would be a waste of time to learn."  
  
"But you just wanted to do it for fun." Azula said.  
  
"Mhm. Didn't matter to him, though. Fun isn't a word in his dictionary."  
  
Azula let out a pained smile. "Indeed."  
  
The pair returned to their drinks, reliving old memories.  
  
"Say," Azula broke the silence. "If you ever drop by Mars, feel free to give me a call. I'd love to keep in touch."  
  
She laughed. "Sure. But why wait until then? We have the rest of the night ahead of us." Julie said, raising her hand to get another Gin & Tonic.  
  
Julie hadn't come here to have a piss-daddy-off-by-being-the-naughty-girl night, but she was here now and that's the kind of night she wanted to have.  
  


* * *

  
  
Azula didn't have a hangover to contend with, but she nevertheless felt like somebody had struck her head with a hammer when she got out from under the covers, waking to the chime of her hand-terminal.  
  
Hand terminals. Plural.  
  
It took her a moment to realize it, but both hers and Julie's were both going off, the only reason the noise was coming from her purse was because both of them had ended up there, somehow.  
  
Azula identified which one wasn't hers by checking whether it unlocked to the touch, and then tossing it behind her back to the groggy Julie, who was going through her own gradual wake-up process.  
  
She checked the caller ID and frowned, before sighing with the knowledge that accepting now was probably better than blowing it off. The transmission delay was too long for a real conversation anyway, all she had to do was listen to it to mark it as seen.  
  
"First I hear that you missed your morning check-in with Major Servetto, then I see a newsfeed of you kissing some earther girl in a godfors-"  
"Julie. I've warned you about getting invol-"  
"-full of belter degenerates, tainting the fami-"  
"-savory characters, I'm worried that I'll have to-"  
"-and the credibility of the Martian eli-"  
"-including taking away the razorback unt-"  
"-you to report to the Major this instan-"  
"-the value of what I've given you. You've al-"  
"-and maybe you'll have a chance at retain-"  
"-stubborn, thick-headed, unladylike, whor-"  
"-latitude I've given you. I expect a full-"  
"-over the system. When you wake up from your-"  
"-and an apology. Ozai out."  
"-you and I are going to have a talk."  
  
The bed shook a little as Julie let herself fall back.  
  
"I take it you have to go?" she said, less of a question and more a prelude to farewell.  
  
"Indeed." Azula affirmed.  
  
"Mars. Maybe I could visit." she said slowly, her voice strained. "You know, after my dad's done being mad with me."  
  
"I look forward to it." Azula said, before getting up and looking around for her clothes, letting Julie sleep it off and leaving without a further goodbye.


End file.
